


To see and to feel what is real

by EnlacingLines



Series: Forever as one in what remains [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Big Brother Shiro (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Confessions, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Lance talks to Shiro about his sexuality, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Lance (Voltron), Post S8, Post Season 8, Post-Canon, Shiro is the best mentor, bi realisation, bisexual discussion, dealing with death, discussion of mental health crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 21:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18269546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: “Do you want to start by explaining how you feel?” Shiro says, tone gentle and encouraging.Lance sits back and exhales, trying to sort through the muddles of emotion but feeling safe to do so.“It seems similar to other times when I’ve had crushes or feelings for someone. It’s just they were always women and… I know I can like both, just wouldn’t I know that by now? Or am I mistaking these feelings for something else? I just don’t get it. Why now?”Lance reflects on his emotional journey, and discusses his developing feelings with two of the people he trusts the most.Part 2 of a post-season 8 Klance series.





	To see and to feel what is real

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, thank you everyone for the support for the first part of this series! I'm really grateful, so glad you liked it. 
> 
> This takes places within the timeline of Cracks and Breaks; specifically after Keith passes on Shiro's number to Lance, and with an additional insight into Lance's past and perspectives. 
> 
> Please make sure you've read part 1 of this series! This will not make much sense otherwise :) 
> 
> I think so many of us had hopes we'd see Shiro be a mentor for Lance over his sexuality, so here is my version of that. 
> 
> WARNINGS: this chapter contains descriptions of a mental health crisis, discussions of depression and heavy grief. Please take care of yourself when reading. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Keith is probably right; Shiro will be happy to hear from him. But the reassurance can’t stop Lance from stalling, the number saved but no call made. He second guesses his plans, his mind coming up with all the reasons; from the tiny doubts he harbors to the completely fantastical, of why Shiro will hang up, not take his call or laugh at the conversation. 

 

His mind does this; puts up barriers and tries to rip perfectly normal and fine things out of his hands, snatch them away and bury them under fear and confusion. He thinks back over recent times, remembering how his mind has gone up and down, sideways and backwards through thought and emotion since his permanent returned to earth. 

 

Lance had always struggled somewhat with doubts, but no more than others, no more than many teens had done so before. Except in the last few years it had crested, changed and morphed into something more damaging and violent to match with his experiences. 

 

Which was frustrating as initially Lance had thought he was fine. Was doing okay, doing remarkably well they all said. Perhaps it was the praise, the distraction or the want to live up to all those strangers commenting on just how well he was coping with everything.

 

It bubbled. Simmered. Pain and loss and fear and nightmares and love and death until it erupted. Spilling on everything and everyone in its path while consuming him first. Because sometimes it takes a while for the fissures and the cracks to form, for the straw that breaks the camel's back to be placed. 

 

At first he’d just needed a break. Time out, time to be with his family he’d not seen in so long, who he’d missed like light itself all those years in the dark vastness of space. But then it  stilled. Lance was aware, distantly that as the world stubbornly turned and whirled around him, change happened. His friends made steps, developments. They had goals and aims beyond Voltron, beyond the focus they’d had for so long. He couldn’t think though. It was all crucial, a turning point of something that he’d not quite grasped, although part of him was desperately lashing out to grab hold of it. The problem was, it all happened in a distant plane, to someone else. Lance was a peripheral viewer of lives in motion, although in the moment he soon forgot he had a role to play. He was stuck back there, watching and flying away from a minute, a goodbye, a forever end.

 

It was also the marks. He remembers now a day, an unremarkable day ,but a catalyst with hindsight. A day when he had an eyelash stuck itching in the corner of his eye that wouldn’t blur out, needed a mirror to see. He’d forgotten the marks. He stared, blurry eyed at the blue ridges, and if he squinted he could change the vision. His face morphed through half closed eyes until he could just make out the structure of Altean features; imagined the marks were pink not blue, could make the shiny white background of the bathroom wobble into an approximation of her long, lofting hair. He reached out because she was  _ here _ , not gone she...

 

His fingers had brushed glass, cold and echoing. The eyelash was no longer there, his tears had cleared it. All he saw was himself, but not Lance. He had Altean markings now, he was something else, something new. He turned and marched from the bathroom, scrubbed his face and caught the marks as he did so, the flesh strangely textured and so different from his own skin. But it was his skin now; the marks didn’t move, couldn’t wash away like an eyelash.

 

It hadn’t bothered him so much before; he must have looked at his face countless times since they appeared. Lance didn’t remember having such a strong reaction until that day, but things kept slipping so much he may have done so.

 

What also changed were people. Moving back into the world, to those who knew him from before, they noticed. He was stared at by his nieces and nephews for a while, his niece in particular seeming to have the most trouble either trying to look or not look at the marks. Neighbours’ eyes drifted when he talked to them, and he’d noticed the odd person, usually a child, pointing. Now he’d noticed, he couldn’t stop seeing it. 

 

He knew it was different now, that the world was slowly redeveloping, but it took time for these things to filter down to the everyday lives of people. He was a defender of the universe, but now he was not, but Lance was also not the same teen who left looking for adventure. And it was marked, in two blue crescents, permanently on his face.

 

That was the day he started to avoid his reflection, something still in practice now. He could go through his morning routine with his eyes downcast, only referring to the bathroom mirror when most necessary. Years of practice mean Lance could apply most of his skincare without needing one, so ended up moving most of his products into his room. He doesn’t look when he passes windows in the street, doesn’t move his eyes from the horizon. He doesn’t need to see his own face.

 

He began hiding by draping clothes over the sole mirror in his room. It started with a jacket, when he’d absently looked for a place to hang it. But it built until there was a large blanket covering the entire pane. He couldn’t accidentally catch himself in it, couldn’t absently see her in a twisted way when he was trying so hard not to slip up. He donated his cosmetic mirror to his sister, claiming the lighting made it useless. He managed to fashion a sort of curtain across the bathroom mirror using an old discarded shower curtain he found in the loft. He could part it if he needed to, but the surface was covered, so no chance of glancing into his own eyes when coming out of the shower.

 

She was there, forever. In his mind and in his skin. He couldn’t look, couldn’t even accidentally see it, but he didn’t want to not see it either. Lance wanted to remember but in his own way, do his best to show how much she meant. But the marks...there was something about them that made him want to smash through any reflective surface and scratch them until they were gone, or just sit and stare and memorise how her own face matched, in case one day he forgot how she looked.

 

Neither reaction was good. It was filed away under the ever increasing list of things he knew were ‘not good’ but that part of him was still locked up. He couldn’t open it back then. He was building and resurfacing, using the rubble he’d been left with to create something new. To look at the building blocks properly meant knocking it down and starting fresh. But the construction had already begun, and Lance didn’t want it to cease, loose the little momentum and praise he’d had so far. 

 

But this is how it started. The bubbles rose, the implosion imminent.

 

They saw it, his friends and family. Lance remembers the build up through echoes of sound and sewn together recollections, and knows they tried everything they could. Hunk visited several times, each time staying longer, appearing increasingly worried. Pidge messaged him every day, called each week even when he didn’t pick up. Shiro constantly asked if he wanted to talk, asking simple easy questions that Lance didn’t have answers for. And Keith, Keith always just seemed to know, have a sixth sense for when Lance was cresting the edge. He sent inane messages, called and they chatted about nothing or everything, Lance now can’t remember. He’d sent him blurry photos of Kosmo which were probably Lance’s favourite, even though taking pictures of a teleporting dog was a challenge, as could be seen from the consistent bad quality. He saved them all anyway, and promised to teach Keith how to take better pictures. 

 

He didn’t make good on the promise though. He didn’t really leave the farm, sometimes didn’t leave his room.

 

It just descended. Piece by broken piece, tiny flickers of glass breaking from a split until one night the shattering. He was fractured and although he had been holding the balancing act well, he was just so tired and there was only so long it could be maintained.

 

Keith was the one he turned to in that moment, on a precipice, when the fragments churned into dust. Lance cannot exactly explain why in that state he called him, but he did instinctively and it was right. Because Keith was there, had answered, just like he always did. Even though it had been difficult, even though Lance had been backing away from everyone, Keith was still the person he knew he could always count on. 

 

Keith stayed for the aftermath, checking in and offering Lance a distant but constant support. Which was easier in some ways, as Lance wasn’t sure if he would have been so receptive to someone trying to help face to face. Distance was necessary, lessened the pressure and any expectations. Crucially it aided in Lance’s most difficult aspect: the Altean marks. Those have their own element, one of the parts that may take what feels like eons to address.

 

Time was both Lance’s friend and enemy in the climb upwards; the hours stretched out, minutes to seconds or to days, depending. One part mended quickly, others seemed smashed beyond belief. But he could reassemble, reform around the past and maybe, just maybe start joining others in the future. 

 

Most importantly, a future where he could remember Allura. Not spend hours wishing for change, wanting to scream at the unfairness of it all, to tear down each universe out of spite because they did not deserve her. No. One where he could think of her and smile, cherish what they had and celebrate all she did; for she did so much, beyond what everyone knows.  And he is one of the people who can remember her that way, can create a future with her memory intertwined. Grieve and still live, without become frozen in the loss. He’s not quite there yet, but it is his goal to aim for. 

 

As he’d started to climb upwards, he’d slowly began to reach beyond himself, holding onto others, to returning conversations and even starting his own. Through it, his bond with Keith had returned to something similar to the one they’d settled in before the climax of the war; that knowledge of deep friendship, the understanding of one another, of how well they clicked in each other’s presence. It was different, as all things differ with life’s moments. But it seemed good. 

 

Until Lance realised exactly how different it was, and that came with a new host of problems. 

 

So now here he is, wanting to talk to Shiro, pacing in front of the screen with the contact up. The next step though is obvious, Lance knows he is just allowing his nerves to get the better of him, so before he can get stuck in cycle of questioning, he presses ‘call’ and almost runs around the room in panic, trying to remove the excess adrenaline. 

 

It’s a good thing he refrains as Shiro picks up quickly. 

 

“Lance, good to hear from you. How are you doing?” 

 

A loaded question. So many people ask out of routine politeness everyday without wanting to hear a truthful answer. But Lance can see Shiro is asking in a genuine sense, and he replies genuinely in return.  

 

“I’m alright actually. Things have been good recently,” 

 

A smile, so good to see on Shiro, is his reply. 

 

“Good to hear. Keith mentioned you might call, said you asked if I changed my number. Sorry for not sending it straight away, he beat me to it.” 

 

“It’s fine! I just happened to ask. It came up. In a conversation.” 

 

Lance’s nerves always did have the side effect of producing words like rain, falling and dripping in a flow without control. Shiro though is patient, the steadiness that Lance needs, and he knows even through the twinges of fear that this was the person he needed to speak to. 

 

“I wanted to talk to you. Specifically about...a thing.” 

 

Shiro raises an eyebrow. 

 

“A thing?” he prompts.

 

“Yeah...wait is it okay to call now? I didn’t even ask you must be busy, I-”

 

“Lance, Lance. Calm down. I’m free, I would have said when I answered if not. What did you want to talk about?” 

 

No escape route, so Lance just closes his eyes once, opens them to see Shiro still waiting, unruffled and calm, not in anyway bothered by Lance’s stalling. 

 

“How did you know...when you had feelings for a man?” he asks and immediately winces because it feels too blunt and an odd combination of words sounding so incredibly awkward. It feels like a bad script and Lance sort of wants to cover his face and run but Shiro looks thoughtful, if a little surprised. 

 

“Hmm. I take it you’re having your own feeling?” he says, no hint of anything but kindness in his voice. But Lance cannot form the words, so just nods. 

 

“Do you want to start by explaining how you feel?” Shiro says, tone gentle and encouraging. 

 

Lance sits back and exhales, trying to sort through the muddles of emotion but feeling safe to do so. 

 

“It seems similar to other times when I’ve had crushes or feelings for someone. It’s just they were always women and… I know I can like both, just wouldn’t I know that by now? Or am I mistaking these feelings for something else? I just don’t get it. Why now?” 

 

“Things don’t happen in the time we want them to, Lance. There’s no timeframe for learning about yourself, and it’s okay to change and develop as you grow. I understand a little of what you mean. For me, I always assumed I had to like women, and when I didn’t I just thought I was a late developer. There weren’t many mainstream examples of other ways I could feel. I didn’t consider another option until someone walked in and it was thrown in my face.” 

 

Lance smiles, laughing a little. “I guess I know that feeling. It’s just... _ him _ , just something he does that makes it more than friendship or even close friendship. It’s familiar, which is comforting, but it’s not like romantic feelings I’ve had before.” 

 

Shiro nods, serious. “All feelings for different people take different forms. Love for one person and love for another, even in a romantic context never look the same. All relationships work differently.” 

 

Lance pauses on his next question, wondering how he should phrase it. It will possibly reveal too much, and Shiro knowing he likes Keith...he’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. They are brothers in all senses that matter, it’s probably a little weird. But Shiro is the only person he feels comfortable enough to discuss this with, so Lance takes the jump anyway. 

 

“You know you said you realised when the guy walked in…” Lance tails off, and Shiro’s look turns fond.

 

“Yes, my second week at the Garrison. It wasn’t love at first sight, but just a shock of seeing someone who instantly had my attention in a way I’d never experienced before. Then the more I grew to know them, everything else grew alongside.” 

 

Lance grins in parallel with Shiro, although part of him is certain he is talking about Adam. But there’s only fondness there, no twinge of the full frontal ache Lance still receives when he mentions Allura’s name. It had taken him months after the fall to even say her name out loud. He wonders if he’ll ever get to where Shiro is, where he wants to be.  Being able to remember someone you loved who no longer breathes without having trouble inhaling yourself. 

 

But that is a question for another time, perhaps. 

 

“That makes sense. And it’s nice, I guess to watch the feelings grow.” 

 

“It was, had it’s teething problems like all new relationships do, but it was. Why do you ask?” 

 

“Mine’s not...the same. It’s not a sudden thing. It’s more like a slow development? I’ve known them for a while. I don’t know if it was always there, if I didn’t understand it but, like you mentioned, it seems to have grown and changed with us. I do think I understand it now and I do see it for what I think it is. If I’m right.” 

 

Shiro looks thoughtful, but if he does know this is about Keith, he doesn’t mention it. 

 

“That’s not a problem, as I said things happen in their own time with different people. Is it the moving from your current relationship to something more that’s worrying you as well?” 

 

Lance nods. “Yes, I guess that’s part of it. Because as I already know them, I worry I’m confusing it for just a stronger friendship.  I just don’t know if what I’m feeling is real or just something I’m making up? Let alone with what might happen if I actually say something,” he adds, because it’s another worry that flicks in and out. 

 

“Let’s just stick with how you feel. One step at a time, Lance.” 

 

Lance agrees, the pressure in him lessening as Shiro confirms taking this slow is okay. 

 

“Do you really think you’d imagine something like this? Because from what you’re saying you know what the feelings are, you’re just reeling for who they are for, and then as it’s confusing you start questioning if they are there at all.” 

 

And that does seem correct for Lance. He does understand this feeling, the burn-fizz of new sensations brewing. Just that it’s for  _ Keith _ who is both a man and his friend, it’s not what he was expecting of himself. Nowadays he finds it easier than ever to second guess, not sure what new trick his brain may be playing on him. 

 

But this is not a trick, not a trap to drag him down. It’s unexpected but not unwelcome. Keith has been a presence in some of the most incredible points of his life to date. Been a comrade, a challenger, the person that brings out his determination and will in situations. A person who he had supported in equal measure for the support he’s been given. They have seen each other through change and strife, through the best and worst of what life can offer. 

 

And he would like that to continue. But in a different way. 

 

So he smiles brightly at Shiro, path a little clearer, ideas a little bigger and faith in himself a little stronger. 

 

“Thank you. I think I feel more confident in those feelings now.” 

 

Shiro’s smile is just as blinding and Lance is suddenly struck by how so very grateful he is to have people like this in his life. To still have Shiro, after all that he went through, who is still willing to take the time to be a mentor and friend in all aspects to Lance. 

 

“You’re welcome, Lance. You can always ask me these questions whenever you need.” 

 

Lance sends his well wishes to Curtis and the call ends. He flops back in his chair, suddenly tired but in a happy untangled way. Another small step to progress. 

 

* * *

 

It’s too early to be awake, but after a small, disturbed sleep Lance cannot stand to stay in bed any longer. He watches the sun rise over coffee, the air in the kitchen warming gently as he does. 

 

He hopes Keith is asleep, was sure when he ended the call he was under deep enough to get some rest. But the concern is a tidal wave, leaving him drenched in a thousand wonderings of how badly Keith could be doing at this very moment. In times like this he hates the distance, and how they are less than he’d like. He’d have given anything in that moment last night to have been there, to hold and soothe Keith through the panic attack, not talk via a screen. 

 

He’ll take what he can though, and hope he’d been able to help. 

 

“You’re up early, my love.” 

 

Lance smiles as his mother walks in, the faint traces of sleep still in her gaze as she looks on with fond concern. 

 

“I was talking to Keith, and couldn’t get back to sleep. There was a bad incident on the planet they’re working on. He wasn’t doing so well,” Lance explains. 

 

The concern in her eyes morphs into full worry. 

 

“Is he okay?” 

 

Lance nods. “Yes, he is. Physically anyway. We talked until he felt better.” 

 

His mother smiles and Lance is so beyond glad for her. Glad for her patience, support and true belief in him for so long. She rests her hand in his hair for a moment as she walks by on her way to make her own coffee. 

 

“You two take care of each other well,” she remarks, and Lance smiles sadly into his cup. 

 

They do, it’s true. Have been doing so for longer than Lance had realised, but now the patterns are clear. They are supportive, they care, they go the extra mile for one another. Their conversations of late have taken a different turn since his chat with Shiro; he flirts and Keith might return it, sometimes seems flustered but in that good way Lance knows personally so well. 

 

Yet starting this, even this small pursuit causes guilt. He enjoys it, likes the teasing lilt, the bright eyes and their own brand of smiles. But should he? He lost Allura; he’d loved Allura for so long and their end was so abrupt and painful. This is tender, light, new and fresh. A juxtaposition to every emotion he’s been feeling towards relationships. Is he even allowed that? Should he be allowed to smile and rejoice in new growing sensations when the woman he loved before died? 

 

“We do. I’m not sure that’s good though,” Lance replies, once again the feelings sliding out of their own accord. 

 

There is a moment or two of comforting normal sounds in the room as his mother fills her own cup and sits opposite him. She grips it, as if warming her fingers even as the dawn heats the room. 

 

“You are full of love, my Lance. My youngest. You always were. And those you give it to are so lucky to have you.” 

 

He frowns, the sentiment an ache but not sure how this relates. She smiles, a pained sad look before reaching out and gripping his hand. 

 

“If your father died tomorrow I’d want him to love just as much and as fully as he does with me now. I’d want him to feel love again, to be loved in return. Because  _ I _ love him. It’s another aspect of love, one we don’t usually think about because between us all we wish it lasts forever. But life is cruel and takes some before their time. And I hate that happened to you, Lance. You are too young to have known that type of pain.” 

 

Lance can barely see by the time she reaches the end of her sentence, eyes blocked with a scattering of teardrops yet to fall. 

 

“There is no rule which says you can only love one person in your lifetime. And Allura would not want you to sit here and mourn her forever. She knew you, knew just how fiercely you love. She would want you, just like I do, to act on something if it comes to you. It doesn’t mean you didn’t love her, does not devalue your time together and doesn’t make caring for Keith wrong either. Be happy, love, and feel love, Lance. You deserve it.” 

 

He really is crying now and makes so much noise as he leaps from his seat and into his mother's arms. She rocks him in the same way she did when he was small and fell down, that comfort that never ceases no matter how old he is. 

 

He pulls away for a few moments, swiping at his eyes. “You-you don’t mind? That it’s...Keith?” he asks, again unsure how to phrase it. 

 

She laughs. “Lance, your sister is dating an alien woman and you’re asking me if I mind you dating a man?” 

 

Lance doesn’t correct her, doesn’t state that Keith is actually half alien because his mind is still stuck on that new revelation. 

 

“Wait, Veronica is dating who?!” 

 

Lance’s mother frowns. “You really have been distracted, haven’t you?” 

 

* * *

 

Their first kiss is not what Lance intends. In all honestly it is not something he plans in advance; perhaps a fantasy or two has slipped in as the feelings progress, but all in all he wanted time. A grand confession, a conversation to lay out all the details within a romantic dinner or gesture, preferably something reminiscent of a romance novel where Lance could be all suave and perfect. 

 

Once again though, life throws in a twist. But then again, has it really? 

 

Keith flying in on his ship, a daring and dramatic entrance, just to see Lance. That in itself still hours later has him wanting to run around screaming that Keith Kogane came out of his way to see him and kiss him. A romance move for the ages. Lance is still amazed at himself, at the fact he can still keep Keith on his toes, matches his gesture with words that cause him to melt in the way he did when they kissed. He wants it again, now this very second, replaying their first, second, fifth kisses in his head because now he can. 

 

Lance is smiling. Still smiling, the heat of the day failing and he has the memories and this current through his skin, still bursting with the newness of falling straight downwards for Keith. Keith, who was there to meet him halfway. 

 

He glances up, catches sight of himself in the hallway mirror. All at once the smile dims even as he watches, the faint flush of his cheeks causing the Altean marks to stand out more than normal. Those marks. He tries, but they are so hard to cope with on any day, even the best of them. He gulps and stares, fingertips moving to trace the skin, actively feeling the difference in texture for the first time in months; a sensation he constantly avoids. 

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” he whispers to nothing. Of course there is no answer and he does not expect one. 

 

The elation dims and Lance moves upstairs. The reality is that this will not be easy. Change, even something so wonderful as this, is hard. Lance is still learning to deal with the situations his life has been turning with since he was seventeen and found himself in space. 

 

A buzz from his desk, and he turns and picks up his device. 

 

_ Back on base. I’m glad I got to see you. _

 

And Lance smiles, can almost feel Keith struggling to know what to say in the aftermath through words, so takes a breath and moves himself forward. 

 

_ I’m glad you did too. I miss you. I can’t wait to see you again. _

 

He almost second guesses but stays strong, tells the voice in his mind to stop and lets himself want and feel. The response from Keith is quick.

 

_ I miss you too. It won’t be long, I promise. _

 

And Lance’s elation is back, the emotions so strong and clear that he wonders why he even questioned to begin with. He is proud of himself for doing this, for allowing this progress to be made. It is time, he thinks even knowing the mirror is still covered, to start walking into the future. 

 

One step at a time, he will get there. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 is a loonnnggg Klance filled story. Coming soon, I just need to edit the monster! 
> 
> In the meantime, come chat to me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/) and [Tumblr](http://enlacinglineswrites.tumblr.com).


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